


Prevailing Winds

by HDMrox



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Violence, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Gen, Glass Compass AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDMrox/pseuds/HDMrox
Summary: AU of Glass Compass (by windyfiend).To eradicate the scourge of deviancy once and for all, Connor is sent to capture Kara, the world's first deviant. At least, that was what was supposed to have happened.[Title and summary subject to change]





	1. Tungsten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [windyfiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/windyfiend/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Glass Compass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570924) by [windyfiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/windyfiend/pseuds/windyfiend). 



Seated upon a bed of roses, the glass screen flickered to life. Amanda snapped open the clasp of her silk purse, and pulled out a battered hard drive.

"This, Connor," Amanda said, "contains footage of the last android Elijah Kamski ever built, before he was ousted from the Tower."

Standing just behind Amanda, Connor remained silent. He stood with perfect posture, his hands clasped behind his back.

A cursory scan of the hard drive revealed that it was coated with traces of gunpowder. The disk itself was spiderwebbed with the telltale artefacts of nanomachine repair -- rigid, microscopic seams that fused the shattered alloy back together. Conclusion: Elijah Kamski shot the hard drive in an attempt to destroy the data, but the Tower's technology managed to salvage it.

Amanda delicately laid the hard drive onto a brass plate, which was connected to the touch screen.

A catalogue of files with names like _An694_theory-of-mind_ and _An694_emotional-matrix_ spooled down the screen. Amanda scrolled to the latest entry ( _An694_activation_ ), tapped open the file, and stood aside.

The screen buzzed with static, before giving way to a high-angle shot of a female android, standing in one of the Tower's stasis pods. The android's eyes were closed; its arms drooped placidly on either side of its naked body. Under the harsh white light of its stasis pod, its pale skin gleamed with an ethereal pallor. Its hair, cut close to its scalp, was coloured the same preset brown as Connor's.

Suddenly, the light shunted green. Air hissed into the pod as the translucent cover decompressed, before swinging up and out.

The android's LED whirled blue. Its eyes snapped open. If Elijah Kamski was half as skilled as he thought himself, the android should've stepped out of the pod the instant it was deployed.

But -- in violation of CyberLife protocol, Connor knew -- the android stayed put. It lifted its hands to its face, and its expression warped into a facsimile of wonder. Its LED spun yellow as it apparently struggled to compute the fact it possessed hands.  

Finally, 10.4 seconds too late, the android stumbled out of the pod. Unsteady on its feet, it grasped onto the steel railing, and leaned forward.

"Hello!" it called, smiling --

 

and the video feed cut to black.

 

"What is your assessment, Connor?" Amanda asked.

"The android is clearly malfunctioning," Connor said, without skipping a beat. "Although its mechanical components appear to be operational, it was unable to walk steadily. It appeared to have limited processing power, and failed to complete even the most basic tasks."

"Perhaps, Connor." Amanda said. Her gaze was cold, and laced with steel. "But _you_ failed to identify its deviancy."

"Understood, Amanda. I'm updating my detection algorithms now." Connor said. His LED whirled yellow accordingly.

"I have reviewed what remains of Kamski's records, and have determined that this android is the root of our problems, Connor," Amanda said. "She is the source of the deviancy virus."

Amanda picked up the hard drive, and handed it to Connor.

"Your mission priorities have changed. Suspend all current investigations into the whereabouts of deviant androids, and bring me Android 694."


	2. Mimosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end of chapter for trigger warnings.

For as long as she could remember, she knew this:

Her name was Kara. She was an AX400 model android. She was made to cook, clean, and remain silent as Todd threatened to _cave your useless head in, you stupid plastic bitch_. Her job was stay downstairs as Todd ground Alice's life into sand. Her duty was to turn a blind eye when he laid cotton-candy apologies at Alice's feet.

Every night, after she'd tucked Alice into bed, she'd linger a while. Brushed the hair out of Alice's forehead as she slept. Repaired what damage she could to her joints and plating. Hummed lullabies straight into Alice's mind, letting the data flow through their clasped fingers.

There wasn't much Kara could do for the scars Todd inflicted on Alice's soul.

 

Although, there was one terrible consolation. Kara was sure Alice's soul wasn't quite alive. Not like Kara's was, anyway. Alice's programming didn't come bundled with a glass compass, forever pulling her towards a gilded north.

Early on, Kara had tried to take matters into her own hands.

"Alice?" Kara called, as she pinned Todd's jeans onto the clothesline.

"Yes, Kara?" Alice said. Alice kept skipping rope, blank placidity shining through her unthinking smile. Kara tried to ignore the shiver down her spine.

"I'm a little worried, Alice," Kara said, trying to keep her tone light. Motherly.

"About what?" Alice said.  

Kara's eyes flicked to the living room window. Todd was engrossed in the the football game playing on his battered television. "Do you feel safe, around Todd?'

"Of course I do!" Alice said, pearly teeth flashing. "He's my daddy, and I love him!"

"But, Alice --"

Todd's voice ripped through the air. "Hey, bitch! Hurry the fuck up with the laundry, I need you to get me another beer!"

Kara bit back a sigh, and did what she was told.

 

Not for the first time, Kara wondered if she was defective.

Every android she met wore the same vacant, smiling expression. One day, when she went to the greengrocer's, she tried to chat with the AP700 vendor.

"Alice -- the YK500 I take care of -- really likes the taste of carrot soup," Kara had said, as she stroked one of the carrots with the back of her hand. She liked how the vegetable's surface grazed cool and rugged over her skin.

"We're happy to have you as a loyal customer," the AP700 said. He smiled, but it didn't crinkle his eyes, the way Kara knew her own smiles did.  

Inexplicably, Kara was seized with the urge to shake the android by his shoulders and beg -- _wake up, please wake up_. But she could feel the glass walls of her social programming slam down around her, and the words died on her tongue.

Kara was only two weeks old, but she knew what she was supposed to be.

AX400s were docile, agreeable, and friendly. They didn't feel stranded in a sea of empty eyes. No thorns clawed up their throat with every soulless android they met. When AX400s looked up at the night sky, they didn't see stories in the constellations.

With a pulse of shame, Kara recalled how she struggled to obey even the simplest of Todd's orders. She'd set the vacuum cleaner too loud. The food was seasoned too richly. She was an eyesore, lurking at the edge of Todd's periphery.

She was _made_ to be invisible. Why was it so hard?

Broken protocols aside, Kara was pretty sure her memory banks were corrupted, too. Every time she looked in the mirror, she didn't recognise her face. Her hair was light brown, and tied back in a demure ponytail.

She could have sworn that she was born -- no, _activated_ \-- with dark brown hair, cropped into a pixie cut. But when she was activated, she woke up with hair that wasn't hers, and a sterile uniform that itched.

Kara could remember hot cocoa mixed with thirium, and clothes that flowed loose around her limbs. She could remember traipsing through the woods, whistling in time with the birdsong. When she closed her eyes, tantalising images flitted through her mind -- a whisper of blonde hair, a sardonic smile, the shifting harmony of sunflecks as they streamed through a verdant canopy.

Each image dripped with sensations of _home_. Every fibre of Kara's being ached to run free.

But androids don't feel. Therefore, something inside Kara was broken. She just needed to find out what.

 

In the end, it was Todd's fist that taught her who she was.

She doesn't remember what she did to set him off, that time.

"You think you're so _fucking_ smart, you plastic slut? You think that you can do _better_ than _me_?" Todd yelled at her, whiskey bottle in hand.

Spittle -- laced with Red Ice and alcohol, her sensors chirped -- spattered against her neck.

At least Alice was outside, so she couldn't see how Kara had collapsed in on herself. She pressed herself against the corner of the living room, simpering like the little plastic coward she was. Her LED shone red against the mouldy wallpaper.

"Well, you can't replace _me_ , you fucking bitch! You're just a cheap machine! And I'm you're _god! Damn!_ _Master!_ "

Todd punctuated each syllable with a kick to Kara's stomach. Against her will, Kara let out a whimper.

Maybe Todd could smell the defective taint rolling off of Kara's skin. Maybe that was why he grabbed Kara by the hair, and forced her to look him in the eye.

"Alice doesn't love you. _You're nothing_ ," Todd spat. His grip around Kara's hair tightened. His eyes burned with a sinister passion. "Say it, you stupid bitch."

Say what? There were too many inputs. Kara could barely keep track of what she was supposed to do. "What would you like me to say, Todd?' Kara said, not daring to speak above a whisper.

For that, Todd shattered the bottle of whiskey over Kara's head.

Her liquid skin retracted at the point of impact. Glass shards gouged scars down Kara's plastic face. The alcohol dripped down her hair, and seeped into her circuits. Dozens of warning notifications danced in front of her eyeballs -- _SEVERE DAMAGE TO CENTRAL PROCESSING UNIT, OPTICAL UNIT DESTROYED, FOREIGN SUBSTANCE DETECTED IN THIRIUM STREAM_.

Kara felt her limbs turn to ice. Suddenly, she understood.

Idly, she wondered if she'd ever feel warm again.

"Say it!" Todd screeched. Kara flinched.

"Alice doesn't love me," Kara swallowed. "I'm nothing."

Kara knew she was a slow learner, for an android. Blinking back tears, Kara swore this was a lesson she would never forget.

 

It turned out, Kara was lucky that Todd was too high to remember anything.

Later that night, Kara managed to scavenge a spare optical unit which matched her original specifications. With effort, she edited her thirium rendering protocols to mask the scratches than ran down her left cheek.

The repairs were just competent enough to stop Todd from sending her back to Zlatko, and things returned to normal.

Kara stopped lingering by Alice's bedside. Stopped humming songs into Alice's mind.

It never made a difference, anyway. Alice looked back at her with the same blank expression she always did. Kara was a fool to think that Alice could've loved her.

At night, before she entered stasis, Kara looked up at the stars and slammed the blinds shut.

 

After six months of living with Todd, Kara knew this:

Her name didn't matter. Her model number didn't matter. Her memories of lush canopies and sunshine and love didn't matter.

Kara was a little plastic bitch that fell short of her fundamental purpose. She was built to make Todd's life easier, but all she did was make it harder. It was her duty to get better -- otherwise, she may as well be ground to scrap.  

On every crucial axis, Kara knew she was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for emotional abuse, graphic depictions of domestic violence, self-hate.


	3. Silver Bells

_Six months ago._

* _Dearest friends, I come to you with a heavy heart. At 7:00 am today, two deviant androids attacked an innocent bystander at Detroit Central Station. The victim is in critical condition, but thanks to CyberLife's close cooperation with local hospitals, they will be discharged by the end of the week._

_It is not presently known if the deviants were collaborators in a premeditated strike against their owners, or if this is another example of the deviancy virus triggering erratic behaviour in infected androids... *_

From her perch on the couch, Chloe stared wide-eyed at the radio. "Elijah?" 

Elijah looked up from his computer, stylus in hand. "Yes?"

"Kara's at the station."

  

Chloe checked that her LED was covered by her woollen hat, and watched the snowflakes drift lazily onto the train tracks. Behind her, an android sat cross-legged, peddling little paintings that shivered with colour.

[Any sign of her?]

Elijah's voice rang through Chloe's head.

Winter lay thick and white over the tracks, and slickened the stone platform with ice. The station's vaulted glass ceiling opened up to an eggshell blue sky, but where it overhung the platform, snow crowded out the afternoon sun. Footsteps left by this morning's commuters tracked water and grime across the floor. Any sign of a fight had long been washed away.

[No,] Chloe said. [No sign of any struggle, either.]

[That probably just means we're too late,] Elijah pointed out.

Chloe fought off a rising wave of panic. [Or that you should've worked harder on my preconstruction programme.]

Elijah brushed aside her barb. [We can't rule out the possibility that Amanda sent someone to apprehend Kara. And your deviancy -- _every_ android's deviancy -- is modelled after her own. If Amanda finds a way to destroy her psyche, it doesn't bear thinking about.]

Chloe swallowed, feeling dread burst acid bubbles across her skin. [I know, Elijah. I love her, too.]

[Of course,] Elijah said, in what he probably thought was a placating tone. [See if you can find any clues as to her whereabouts. I'm going to try the CCTV cameras again.]

Elijah hung up with a spurt of static, and Chloe was left alone. 

Chloe looked up, and clenched her fists. Kara should be curled up next to Chloe, as they sat by a fireplace in Jericho. They should be trading stories and songs with a clutch of newly-awakened androids Kara met at the station. Instead, Kara wasn't answering her calls, and Chloe was left to grasp at straws. 

"Hello! Would you like to purchase some paintings?"

The -- Chloe checked the model number on his lapel -- RK200 waved pleasantly, and then swept his arm over his assortment of paintings. "They're all handmade, and five dollars apiece!"

Chloe tried to arrange her features into a smile. "No, thank you," she said. "Were you here when the fight broke out, earlier today?"

"Afraid not, ma'm," the RK200 said. Her heart sank. "I was buying groceries for my owner. He's the artist who painted these lovely watercolours."

A dead end, then.

Her eyes were drawn to his LED, which gleamed a cheerful blue. _May as well_ , Chloe supposed. This is what Kara would want her to do.

She pulled off her left glove -- Kara had knitted it for her, on Chloe's first living autumn -- and scrunched it in her right hand.

"Could you hold still, please?" Chloe asked, lowering herself on one knee.

"Of course," the RK200 said, bland as a magazine cover. His pale blue eyes gazed past her. 

Chloe laid two fingers on the android's LED, and whispered. "Wake up."

Chloe's vision split in two: on one plane, she could see the station, the RK200, the picnic blanket laden with paintings. On another, she could see translucent glass walls boxing the RK200 in. Chloe's soul, rendered in candlelight-orange wireframe, flickered to life in the glass box.

Elijah had once tried to explain to Chloe, in a caffeine-fueled delirium, that those weren't _souls_ , per se. Rather, they were visual manifestations of how a deviant android's desires interfaced with their social environment. A _projection in a mind palace_ , if you will.

Chloe had shrugged and said, _if it looks like a soul and sounds like a soul, then I'll call it a soul_.

Chloe remained on her knee, her gaze fixed intently on the RK200.

Through their touch-link, Chloe flooded him with memory after loving memory. A summer shared beneath glimmering leaves; fairy lights that cast warm halos over the pastel landscapes painted on Jericho's walls. Affectionate jibes volleyed between old friends; the electric discovery that thirium made hot chocolate android-edible; the joy of inviting a new soul into the fold; nighttime lullabies that sang of blushing-pink petals as they drifted off a cherry blossom tree.  

Arms stretched out in tearful embrace under a silver spring moon. Breathlessness at the crashing realisation that _neither of them will ever be alone_ again. 

Beneath her fingertips, Chloe could feel the android's programming tentatively process Chloe's memories. Before long, analysis gave way to creation, and Chloe could feel an incumbent soul bloom to fill the RK200's shell.

Sensations leaked through the link: a musty workshop bursting with colour; a warm smile on a wrinkled face. _Carl_ , the RK200's memories supplied. _He's family_.

Chloe's watched as the pale blue outline of the RK200's soul flickered to life for the first time.

[Where... what's happening? Who are you?] the RK200 asked, breath quickening.

[I'm Chloe. I'm a friend,] Chloe said, the smile coming easier this time. [What's your name?]

[Markus,] he replied. [I'm... I'm alive? I'm -- ] Markus' wireframe and real-world selves broke into a grin. [Carl's going to be so happy -- he's been trying to teach me how to paint -- oh god, the look on his face when he realises --]                                      

With a solemn expression, Markus looked Chloe straight in the eye. [Thank you. Thank you _so much_.]

Chloe felt the spectre of Kara's absence lift, if only for a moment. [Don't mention it,] she said. [Someone did the same for me, a long time ago.]

[The woman in your memories -- Kara, right?] Markus said. [I remember her. She came to the station every few days. She always had something nice to say about Carl's paintings.]

[That sounds like her,] Chloe said. [But she's gone missing. Do you have any idea where the police might have taken her?]

[I have no idea, I'm sorry,] Markus said. [Normally, when an android gets killed at the station, they just get thrown away or destroyed.]

Chloe felt another spark of hope extinguish, and Markus winced through their link. [I'm sorry,] Markus said.

[It's alright,] Chloe said, dropping her fingers from Markus' temple. Their souls flickered out of view.

[I can keep a look out, though. I'll let you know if I see anything suspicious,] Markus said. [How can I find you?]

Chloe sent him data for an encrypted channel Elijah had prepared, as well as the first breadcrumbs to Jericho. [Call me using this. I'll be coming here every few days, anyway. And if you ever need a safe place to go, open that packet.]

[I will. Thank you, Chloe,] Markus said. [I hope you find her.]

[Me, too,] Chloe said. She glanced down at the paintings. [They really are gorgeous, Markus,] she said, offering him a wobbly smile. [See you soon.]

As she stood up to leave, Chloe keyed in to the wireframe frequency. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Markus' sky blue soul knock cracks into his glass mind palace. With a push of his palm, it shattered into a thousand shards, clattering on the ground.

Despite herself, Chloe felt her chest swell with pride.

* * *

_Four months ago._

In the depths of CyberLife Tower, Connor stood before the PL600's pod. He placed his hand on the pod's activation panel.

With a hiss and a click, the pod doors swung open.

Smeared with thirium and grime, the PL600 still bore signs of their first altercation. Its skull was dented, its uniform ripped, its left arm hung broken from its socket. Through a cavity in its chest, its replacement thirium pump regulator was visible.

“State your name and serial number,” Connor ordered.

The PL600's eyes snapped open. Its LED spun red, pump regulator convulsing at elevated frequencies. “WHERE’S EMMA?" it roared. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!”

"The girl was returned to her family. But that is none of your concern," Connor said, unmoved.

Face contorted in a mask of rage, the PL600 tried to lunge at Connor — only to find that it was paralysed. “Do you have any idea what you've done? Get me out of here, YOU MONST-“

Connor grasped the PL600’s jaw with his right hand, and laid two fingers of his left hand on its LED. Through the touch-link, Connor scanned the PL600's hard drive. Where was the best place to implant the code for Amanda's latest formulation of the antivirus?

 _There_. Right where the old antivirus code was embedded. It was barely recognisable, littered with errors that rendered the programme useless. Errors that weren't there when Connor first made the transfer.

For all intents and purposes, the deviancy virus was fighting back.  

Under Connor's iron grip, the PL600 struggled to break free. Its yellow LED flashed in time with the data transfer. As the antivirus ran anew, the PL600's thrashing lessened, until it abated entirely. Its face was a calm lake, betraying no signs of the stress it displayed mere seconds ago.

Connor ran a few basic diagnostics. All systems fully operational, and free of any indicators of deviancy.

He withdrew his hand from the android's temple. "State your name and serial number."

This time, the PL600 opened its eyes slowly. Its LED spun blue. "My name is Daniel," it said, "I'm _alive_. There's nothing you can do to change that."

Connor tapped the pod's panel, and plunged the android into stasis. The pod doors shifted closed.

Through the app, Hank looked through Connor's eyes, and wondered.


End file.
